


Breaking the Case

by CaityCatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Background Relationships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives, not the main characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaityCatt/pseuds/CaityCatt
Summary: Several years post-war, Draco finds himself becoming friends with golden-boy savior of the wizarding world, Harry Potter. There's no way this friendship could really become anything other than a vague acquaintance, though. Right?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter One

Draco had been taught loyalty his entire life. Loyalty to family and the family’s name and reputation. Loyalty to their beliefs and status. To their slurs and prejudice. Then, when his family’s lives were threatened, he was taught loyalty to the Dark Lord. Had it instilled into the marrow of his bones through hours of the Cruciatus Curse mingled with Aunt Bella picking through his mind, all while his mother and godfather stood and watched. He’d learned to nod and agree and repeat what was said to him and stop throwing up while watching others be tortured before him.

This, however, this was just for him.

Hands shaking, he sat on the plush couch that took up most of the living area of his flat and stared at the letting that his owl had just brought him. Snitch perched just behind Draco’s shoulder, the golden barn owl surprisingly quiet instead of demanding treats, as if she realized her owner’s emotional state. He hadn’t been this nervous since the trails after the war ended.

Those trials saw Draco’s father imprisoned. However, thanks to Potter’s stepping in and speaking up for them, Narcissa was released to house arrest, and Draco had then been given control of the Malfoy estate and finances and probation. Draco had then spoken at many of the hearings involving other pureblood families and their involvement in the war, pushing for rehab and guidance for the children of those families, wanting to give them a chance he’d never had.

He then threw the Malfoy money and name behind that: paying for mind healers to work with victims of the war, helping to rebuild not only Hogwarts but also other homes and businesses damaged or destroyed, and then working with Kingsley and Minerva to create the PureHeart Foundation, where purebloods were taught to change their thoughts and treatments of others and could do volunteer work to pay their debt to society and learn to actually work productively with those of other blood standings.

As it became known that he had honestly changed and was truly trying to help, he’d been contacted by his cousin, Sirius Black, and the two championed the fight for werewolves to be treated as equals, arguing that their mistreatment and lack of resources was often what caused them to engage in crime. St. Mungo’s now housed the RJ Lupin Ward, where lycanthropes could go to get Wolfsbane and rest safely during the full moons. It was also working toward more innovation in potions to help with management of the condition.

A few years later, Black mentioned that Potter wanted to create a home for children from abusive families to have a safe place to go outside of Hogwarts. Draco and his foundation stepped in to help find enough land to build a home large enough and allow for space to play quidditch and roam outside. Draco and Neville had become fast friends during that time, working together to create greenhouses and gardens that were meant to be played in, as neither boy had been allowed to do so growing up.

Then, when Minerva reached out to ask him about his aptitude with potions and whether he wanted to pursue that, he began an apprenticeship under Slughorn.

Now, he held letters from both of his previous professors. Draco finally cracked the seals, crying as he read the letters. One said he’d passed his final set of exams and was a full potions master, and the other extended an offer for the position as professor at Hogwarts, allowing Slughorn to return to his retirement. 

Loyalty to himself and his own beliefs felt pretty damn good.

A few days after accepting his position at Hogwarts, Draco sat at the small Indian restaurant down the street from his flat. It was owned and run by muggles, but that meant he didn’t have to worry about anyone spitting in his food or on him. Though he’d worked hard to rebuild his reputation and the expectations of his family, apparently, it took more than seven years to repair generations of damage. He might not like it, but he understood. The bell over the door jingled, and he looked up to see an all-too-familiar mess of black hair enter. Before he could figure out how to hide under is table without being obvious, Potter was at his table, smiling.

“Hey! I didn’t know you liked Indian.” He nodded at Draco’s plate. “How spicy?”

“Uh….two? Maybe three?”

Potter laughed again, running a hand through his hair. “I usually go for a seven, minimum. Give me a minute to grab my order, and I’ll join you. Yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he was off to get his food.

“Um…yeah?” Draco looked around the seating area then leaned to peer out the windows as much as he could, expecting to see the area surrounded by Aurors or staked out by former DA members, all ready to attack or arrest him for daring and be out and about in a muggle area. That was preposterous, though. He’d been having dinner at this restaurant every Tuesday for months, and no one had bothered him, yet. Tuesdays were their quietest nights, and he always had leftovers for Wednesday, which had been his long day of travel and training with Horace.

Potter re-appeared, a drink and large order of naan bread in hand, and dropped into the booth across from Draco. “So, this place good? I’ve heard of it, but this is my first time trying it.”

Draco started to question how Potter would hear of such a small muggle eatery, but he reminded himself that the other man had grown up around muggles and was more comfortable with them than others in wizarding society might be. Moreover, Potter actively attempted to avoid being caught by paparazzi when out, so smaller establishments most likely helped him do so. A waitress arrived and sat a plate of food in front of the dark-haired man, making Draco realize he’d been gaping rather than answering. “Oh, um. It’s amazing, if you ask me, which you, obviously, just did. I, uh, I really like it, though. Staff is great, and the food is delicious. Just as good the day after, too.”

“You’ve eaten it reheated?”

Draco started to stiffen, expecting a jab at how the mighty had fallen if he’s eating reheated food from muggle places rather than being cooked for by house-elves.

Potter just grinned and took a large bite. “Awesome. I hate to cook, so I love anything that’s good warmed up.”

Draco had heard that Potter’s upbringing wasn’t the nicest, but he didn’t feel comfortable asking if that was why he disliked cooking. “I enjoy cooking, actually. Reminds me of potions.” Draco huffed a slight laugh, pushing his curry around his plate. “I’m pants at it, though.”

His head snapped up as heard Potter choke on a bite, but the other man wasn’t in trouble. He was laughing. “You? Potions Master and Snape’s favorite? Can’t mix things up following directions?”

Draco’s cheeks heated, and he struggled not to smile back. “Snape hated me, really. It just looked good for his reputation around purebloods and Death Eaters to dote on me.” Draco quit fighting and let himself smile. “I did beat his scores on the Potions Master exams, though.” He felt a rush of pride when Potter’s smile widened at that. “I want to learn to feed myself. I enjoy knowing I’m not dependent upon others.” He shrugged, lowering his gaze as he scooped up his next bite. “And knowing that no one is responsible for my life. For keeping my alive.”

There was a long pause as Draco took his bite and chewed. He let the silence stretch, having not exactly meant to say so much but also not sure why Potter was even sitting here and speaking with him.

“I get that. The hardest part of being an Auror was when Ron left to work with George. I had never trusted anyone but him and Hermione, really, so having a different partner, having to trust someone at my back….” Potter sighed heavily and shifted back in his seat, making Draco look up. “Anyways, I hate cooking. I like baking, though. It reminds me of Molly and time at the Burrow.” He laughed. “I just have to remember that I can’t run off and do something fun while stuff’s in the oven, though. Will set off the fire alarms there.”

Draco found himself laughing at that, laughing along with Potter. The tension was broken, and they began talking about catastrophes they’d caused in the kitchen. Without realizing it, Draco passed an enjoyable dinner with Potter, even agreeing that they should meet up again some time.

Walking home, he realized it was probably politeness that led Potter to say such a thing and was, thus, unlikely to happen. It was nice, though. And he was still smiling.


	2. Chapter Two

Less than a week later, Draco ran into Potter at his favorite breakfast diner. Potter was stretched out in Draco’s usual booth, two plates piled high before him, and was nursing a steaming cup of coffee. He grinned when the two made eye-contact, waving Draco over.

“Potter.”

“Harry. Grab a seat.” He motioned for Draco to sit. “Pancakes? No, you look like a waffle guy.”

Draco felt his knees bend and obey before his brain had time to scream no, “How does one look like a breakfast food, Potter?”

The darker-haired man grinned, winked, “New Auror classification system. Waffle guys are good guys.”

Draco swallowed and nodded. “Waffles.” Harry laughed, nodding politely to the waitress who brought Draco his usual cup of earl grey, asking if he wanted his usual breakfast. “Um, no. I, uh, I’d like to try your…the waffles?” Harry laughed harder as Draco asked more than stated his order, handing over a menu opened to the waffle page. Everything sounded very sweet, but he pointed. “The rhubarb and custard waffles. Please. Side of bacon.”

Grinning, Harry nodded as the waitress left. “Bacon is the best breakfast food. It’s one of the few things I deign worthy of cooking without bitching.”

Draco whined. “Really? I never get it right. It’s always too chewy or too crunchy.”

Harry leaned in, nodding his head to draw Draco forward, and the blond barely thought before leaning in, too excited about being let into one of Potter’s secret conspiracies. Almost like they were really friends meeting for food on purpose. “Cast iron skillet, turn it way more than you think you need to, and pull it off when it looks just dark enough but still feels to soft. It’ll firm up while it drains.” Harry leaned back. “I also like to sprinkle it with a bit of seasoning at that point, too. Sort of let it absorb and drain and harden up.”

Draco choked on a bit of tea at the words ‘harden up,’ quickly wiping his face and nodding along. “I’ll have to try that. In the morning. The technique I mean.” Draco felt how flushed his face had become, silently cursing his fair complexion. The waitress returned with his food, however, and he focused on thanking her and setting up his utensils.

“You do that every time.” Draco paused and looked up. “You always thank the staff, even when they bring something for someone else. And you set up your fork and stuff all fancy-like.”

Draco cleared his throat and nodded. “I suppose one is years of training and the other is trying to break years of training.”

“You’ve done a lot of that. I mean, you tend to stay in the background of all the charity work you do, mostly putting your face and name out in public as proof that you’re going a different route than for clout, but you’ve made a lot of changes. For you and the wizarding world.”

Snorting, Draco shook his head. “I mean, I’m not Golden Boy, running about and saving us all.” Harry groaned and threw a bit of toast at Draco, making him laugh. “But I know that my family name has always stood for something, and I’d like it to stand for something good, now.” Draco sighed and shrugged. “I’d like to mean something good.” He flushed as Harry studied him. “I suppose it’s still part of the Auror job to keep an eye on me, though. Well, me, my family, and anyone else who’d been connected to V-Vo-V.” Stopping before the stutter could get worse, Draco cleared his throat. “Connected to that sort of evil.”

Harry looked a bit ill at ease at that comment. “I mean, we’re not running about monitoring your every move or anything, but we do pay attention to who seems to have changed for real and who’s faking it because it’s fashionable to do so.”

“You don’t perchance mean my darling ex-girlfriend Pansy?” Draco turned up his nose and fanned himself with his napkin, lifting his voice to a screechy point. “I’m sure she’d be _thrilled _to know you were so interested in her and more than happy to let you come search her house _thoroughly _.” Harry dropped his head onto the table, making gagging noises, and Draco started laughing. “I’d let her know you’re interested, but I haven’t spoken to her in years.”____

____“No, thank you. Single I may be, but I’m not that desperate.” Harry glared at Draco as he lifted his head and went back to his breakfast. “And I always sort of thought you two would grow up and get married and have little pureblood babies.” Harry stopped, eyes going wide. “I suppose that’s not fair, though. That’s teen me’s opinion of teen you, huh?”_ _ _ _

____Draco nodded. “In your defense, my parents thought the same thing. She’s not the nicest person, though. Not someone I could see spending a happy or comfortable life with. She’s the kind who only laughs at people, rather than just enjoying life, you know? No peace with that one.” Draco’s voice trailed off, and it took a few moments to snap himself back to the conversation. “Anyways, she was also a, I think the term is beard?”_ _ _ _

____Harry had leaned forward as Draco spoke about Pansy, face soft in understanding but eyes shrewd, like his brain was piecing something together. Those emerald orbs went wide at the last of Draco’s comment. “I knew it!” Draco simply stared, having not expected that reaction. “Lee started a pool about who you were going to marry. He said Mildred, but Ron put his galleons on the Greengrass girl. I knew, though. You dated Pansy like Ginny dated me.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t know whether to be more offended that there’s a betting pool on my sex life or that someone picked Millie.”_ _ _ _

____Harry laughed. “I think it was a joke. I met up with them after we talked the other day, and it sort of.” Harry waved one hand in a circle. “Came up?”_ _ _ _

____“Mmmhmmm. Well, that’s one more observation for your Auror file on me, yes?” Harry’s face took on a pinched look, and Draco shook his head. “I’m teasing. I’m sure you have better things to do at work than skulk around after me.” Draco kept his tone light, but he had secretly wondered if he was still under watch._ _ _ _

____“It’s been pretty slow in my area of the office, lately. I’m pretty sure they’re just giving me jobs to keep me busy.”_ _ _ _

____Draco nodded, body relaxing. “How is Ginny, by the way? I know there was a lot of media hubbub around the two of you when you split, but you’ve seemed to stay on good terms.”_ _ _ _

____Harry nodded. “She’s good. Much happier with Luna than with me. I think she’d sort of fixated on me since she was young because she felt she _needed_ to like a guy, you know? And the other guys she’d dated at Hogwarts also ended up being gay.” Draco nodded, remembering the explosive, literally, wedding between Dean and Seamus. Harry and Ginny had acted as best men for the two. “She’s really happy with Luna, though. Truly happy. We all still see each other for Sunday dinner, when we can make it. Sometimes it’s just me and Luna hanging out with Molly and Arthur. I brought Oliver when he and I were dating, and everyone was cool.”_ _ _ _

____“I try to eat dinner with my family at least every couple weeks. It’s hard because there are a lot of parts of myself I still have to hide, like why I won’t marry Astoria any more than I would Pansy, but.” Draco laughed, the sound more like a cough. “But I want to think they’ll love me anyways. I guess I keep hoping that something will happen while I’m there to prove me right without having to admit who I am. You know?”_ _ _ _

____Harry’s eyes looked damp when Draco met his gaze, lips curved downward. Reaching out, he took hold of Draco’s hand. “Look. I don’t talk a lot about my family, my blood family, that is. I considered the Weasley’s my real family, you know? But I spent a lot of years hoping that same thing. And it didn’t work. And that still hurts. They were, they are, I mean Petunia is all that’s left of my mum, other than me. I’m always going to want her to learn to love me. But she either does or doesn’t. I can’t let that stop me from loving me. I can’t let me stop living now because my ten-year-old self wishes she could have hugged me, even just once.”_ _ _ _

____Draco sniffed hard, nodding and looking down, fingers clenching around Harry’s for a moment. “I know. Thank you.”_ _ _ _

____“Why did you tell me and not them?” Draco looked up, and Potter flushed. “I mean, why trust me with knowing you’re gay, if you haven’t told your family?”_ _ _ _

____“I suppose.” Draco paused, thinking it through a bit himself. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to know if they don’t really love. And I did want to know if you’d still hate me.”_ _ _ _

____Harry nodded and gave Draco a minute to collect himself before they returned to conversation. “So, were you really a waffle guy? Or did you usually get pancakes?”_ _ _ _

____Draco looked down at his still-full plate, having been too caught up in talking to even notice he’d not been eating. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had waffles or pancakes before. Fresh fruit and toast were what I grew up eating.” He took a bite of the laden carb before him, groaning and sinking down lower in his seat. “Dear Merlin, I am a waffle person.” Harry laughed, the sound seeming a bit strained, and Draco swallowed and opened his eyes, shrugging and grinning. “I’ll have to try pancakes next time, but I don’t think they can top this.”_ _ _ _

____Harry shook his head, swallowing hard enough that Draco could see his Adam’s apple bob. “No, I doubt they can.”_ _ _ _


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our soft boys play Quidditch

Harry and Draco made plans to meet up for breakfast again the next day so that Draco could try pancakes. They weren’t as good as waffles, but he did like them, and since they didn’t involve buying a new machine for his kitchen, he could start trying to make them at home.

“I’m going to gain a million pounds, if I do, though. You have all that Auror training. I sit around a lab.”

Harry had laughed at that, gaze running down Draco’s frame. “I don’t think you need to worry. You seem pretty naturally lean. You could always start joining us for pick up quidditch games, if you want.” He grinned, leaning closer to Draco. “And if you think you can still keep up with me.”

Draco scoffed and shoved Harry back. While neither man was particularly tall, Seekers were supposed to small, Draco did have almost two inches on Harry, so he was able to sneer down his nose. “I’d be more worried about you keeping up with me, what with all the weight you’ve put on.”

“Weight my left ass cheek!” Harry pulled up his shirt, showing off a well-defined six pack. “I worked hard to put on this muscle.”

All that muscle didn’t necessarily make Harry big, more like a medium to Draco’s small, but he was toned and tanned enough that Draco’s mouth watered. He reminded himself that both men Harry had dated publicly, Oliver and then a beater from the Bats, had been bigger built men. And he’d recently been linked in the media to Tamsin Applebee, a chaser for the same team Oliver played on. He shoved those thoughts down before they could turn into blushing or drooling or both.

“Hard earned or not, it makes you heavier than me.” Draco smirked, arching one brow. “And slower.”

“You’ll eat your words. This Saturday. Seekers game. Just us. If I win, you have to come to our next pickup game.” Harry poked Draco in the side. “And I know you’re just teasing me to avoid admitting you’re afraid to come.” He grinned, tossing his dark hair back out of his eyes. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. I’m not blind to the people around me and their feelings, and if I thought it would be an uncomfortable time for you, I wouldn’t mention it.”

Draco huffed, face flushing again. “Fine. But what do I get if I win.”

“Anything you want.” Draco almost swallowed his tongue, but Harry just laughed and elbowed him, seemingly oblivious to where Draco’s mind had gone. “Since there’s no way that will happen.”

***

Potter was still as nimble on a broom as he’d been during their school days. While he was broader, now, his lower center of gravity seemed to allow him to mesh with his broom, the two moving as one. Draco had hoped his long, lean frame would give him a speed advantage, but alas, he was wrong. Dead wrong. They ended up playing three seeker’s games, and he lost each one spectacularly, huffing and puffing by the end of the third. Apparently, having barely been on a broom since fifth year actually put him at a disadvantage.

He wiped sweat from his brow as Potter approached him, grinning. “Okay. I know. Don’t rub it in.” He could see the laugh form inside Potter before it bubbled to the surface, and he found himself grinning back, even as he huffed and swatted the other man. “I said, don’t rub it in!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry. I just, you were so confident that you were going to kick my ass, and you were good in school. I don’t know; I guess I expected different.”

“I expected more of me, too.” Draco sighed, and shook his head. “I suppose I’ll need to practice, since I’m playing against you in pick-up games.”

Potter’s face lit up at the mention of his prize, but he shook his head, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I mean, if you’re not flying anymore.”

“I’ve been afraid.” Draco almost froze at the words that left his mouth. Dammit, why did he keep admitting such things to Potter. “I…it’s been a struggle to get back on a broom, since the…the…fire.” He ducked, rubbing the back of his neck and taking deep breaths. Just the thought of the fire that took his friend’s life made him feel clammy all over, stomach knotting up and skin breaking out in goosebumps. “My mind healer says I should fly more, remember how much I used to love it instead of that fear, but some days.” He trailed off.

There was a thunk, and he looked up to see Potter had dropped his broom, a strange, twisted look on his face, as if he, too, were suddenly back in the room. He stepped forward and drug Draco into a tight hug, face buried against his neck, shockingly intimate and similar to how Draco had clung to him all those years ago. “I know. It was hard for me, too, but I had the Weasley’s to fly with, to remind me. I hadn’t thought that you’d….I didn’t think about you. The real you and not the school bully. I’m sorry. I should have known. We’ll fly some more, just us, before we play a game with the others, okay?”

Draco’s own broom slipped from his shaking fingers, and he couldn’t answer. All he could do was nod and wrap his own arms around Potter. Harry.

***

Draco continued to lose their one-on-one games, but he steadily began to improve. He stopped hesitating when flying higher than a few meters above ground, and he quit flinching when the sun glinted off anything reflective around them. In fact, by the fourth game, he found himself looking forward to match rather than feeling nervous about it. He even spotted the snitch first, and had he not all but fallen off his broom in excitement, he might have caught it.

“Did you see me? I really went for it! Like, really did. No fear!” He danced around in a circle as he and Harry headed for their favorite lunch place. Getting food together had become as much a part of their ritual as the game itself.

Harry grinned, his head cocked to the side and a thick lock of sweaty hair falling in his face as he looked up at Draco. “Yeah. You did.”

Draco flushed as he caught Harry’s eye, but not from pride or exertion this time. “I think I’m ready to join your friends, if you really think they’d be okay with me.”

Harry grinned, his own cheeks seeming to pinken, though Draco was sure that just his imagination. “I’m glad.” He wrapped his arm around Draco and hugged him against his side as they walked. “I’ll let them know for next weekend.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suck at these. The boys meet up. Things happen. It's stuff.

“You know, Draco, if you’d spend more time looking for the snitch instead of starring at Harry’s ass, we might actually win this.” Two seconds after his remark, Seamus dove and missed a shot thrown by Ginny.

Draco sneered back, “Maybe if you’d spend more time looking out for the Quaffle instead of staring at my ass, the whole team wouldn’t have to depend on me catching the snitch to win.” He waited until the other man made eye contact and winked. “I know I’ve got that skinny boy physique you like so much.”

Seamus gaped for a moment, then laughed so hard he almost fell off his broom. “You are fit for a git, but I’m still going to need you to find that snitch.”

Though his team lost that game, Seamus invited Draco out for lunch and shopping later that week. By the time Draco had been joining Harry and his friends for Quidditch for a few weeks of regular quidditch games, they’d become quite close. In fact, Draco actually felt quite at ease with most of the circle. He’d even started to think of a few of them as his own friends. Acquaintances, at least. Maybe whatever was between the two.

Lunch out had turned into dinner with Seamus and Dean. While Seamus couldn’t be near a cauldron without setting it on fire, he was a whiz at baking and was trying and failing to teach Draco. Most nights they met up, Draco would be thrown out of the kitchen to talk about books and politics with Dean while Seamus struggled to salvage whatever they were making.

Ginny still barely spoke to him, communicating in jerks of her head and grunts, but Luna met him for tea twice a week. She didn’t always tell him when she was meeting him for tea, just randomly showed up at his house, opening the door and walking in as if his wards meant nothing to her. She was far scarier than she let on, and he was regularly reminded of how grateful he was that she used her power for good and Wrackspruts.

Ron also took a little time to come around to Draco’s presence, but almost like a switch flipped, he one day started acting like they were best mates and not former enemies. Draco and Harry were actually on their way to meet Ron for lunch at a café next to WWW.

“You’re such a punk.” Harry laughed and nudged Draco with his shoulder as they headed to meet up with Weas…Ron, for lunch on Diagon Alley.

“I am not.” Draco sniffed. “I prefer classic rock, thank you.”

Harry froze, mid-step. “Seriously?”

Draco smirked, brow raised at the wording. “Serious indeed. My parents hated rock music, but Greg and Vince loved it. So long as I told my mother I wanted classics, she didn’t realize it wasn’t classical.” He smiled. “Just assumed I was behaving.”

Seeming to catch on, Harry shoved him again. “You’re who Sirius keeps swapping records with, aren’t you?”

Draco’s smirk became a full grin, and he nodded. “Remus has the better selection of indie bands, but Sirius’s first editions are to die for.”

Harry sputtered, “First editions? He lets you touch those?”

“He lets me borrow those.” Every bit of old Malfoy pride and glee was back in Draco’s voice at once again having something to hold over Harry, but there was no malice this time. Only pride that he was allowed something so sacred, something precious to Harry’s inner sanctum. “I currently have Queen’s debut at my place. They one autographed by Freddie himself.”

“You. You. Punk!”

“I thought we’d just establish that I’m a classicist?” 

Harry laughed so hard he doubled over, hands on his knees and wheezing. Draco was about to ask if he was all right, when he straightened, cupped the blond’s face, and pressed their lips together. “You’re amazing, you know that? An asshole but amazing.”

Draco froze the second Harry’s lips touched his, sure he must be dreaming. They did not just kiss in the middle of a crowded street like they did this all the time. Like it hadn’t upended Draco’s entire world. Like this wasn’t everything he’d known he didn’t deserve from the moment he realized how vile his family’s beliefs, the belief’s he spouted as fact, really were back in fourth year. “Amazing asshole?”

Harry laughed, nuzzling Draco’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ve that, too, but I just meant you in general.” He interlocked their fingers and continued walking, tugging the stunned blond along. “We should have dinner at their place later this week. I mean, if we both hang out with them, why not together?”

“Why not together? Have dinner? With your godfathers? Together.”

Harry grinned at Draco, that same stubborn lock of dark hair falling into his face, and for once Draco didn’t resist. He just reached out and ran his fingers through the unruly curls, brushing it back out of Harry’s face.

“Yeah, together.”

Draco’s chin wobbled for a brief moment; then, he smiled and nodded. Face turning pink as his smile became a grin so wide it hurt. “Yeah. Okay.”

Harry laced their fingers together and tugged him into continuing their walk. They rounded the corner a few minutes later and came into sight of Ron and Hermione, only for Ron to let out a bark of laughter that echoed down the street, making several people stop and stare.

“It took you long enough. You’ve been mooning over him for weeks.”

Draco flushed and snapped, “I have not” at the same time Harry laughed and said, “Yeah, I know.” The two looked at each other, Draco’s blush increasing as Harry leaned in and kissed him once more, as if they’d done this for years and each brief touch of their lips didn’t turn Draco’s world upside down and inside into knots.

“Liar. Come on. I’m starved, and this place is great. Plus, we’ve only got about fifteen minutes before Hermione starts ranting about work again.”

Draco frowned and looked over at the young woman, at least two quills tucked into her spiral curls. “Aren’t you working on the law that’s supposed to create better relationships between the wizarding world and goblins?”

She nodded, “Yeah, but Yaxley Rosier is causing problems.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sat. He started to respond, but Harry clamped a hand over his mouth. “Fifteen minutes. Don’t take that away from us.”

Draco pulled the other man’s hand away. “Be glad you’re good looking. Fine.” He faced Hermione again but didn’t let go of Harry’s hand. “In fifteen minutes, I can help you with that.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most of this fic is in Draco's POV, but I wanted to break a bit and give people a little happy glimpse of WolfStar, as they lived. The next chapter will be back to Draco and build off this one, and since this one was shorter, I'll post sooner. Promise <3

Sirius Black never expected to be happy. Once he realized he wouldn’t follow his family’s belief system, he’d resigned himself to survival and then rebellion. James threw a wrench in that plan when he took Sirius in as family, and Remus further complicated things by teaching Sirius to love.

He hadn’t been sure things would return to normal after Azkaban and the second war, but here he sat in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place with Remus’s head in his lap as he read and his fingers wound loosely through the honey-colored curls that framed a scared, age-lined face. Nothing had ever looked so beautiful or felt so right.

They were waiting for their godson to come over with Sirius’s second cousin….and Harry’s apparent new boyfriend.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With Harry dating Draco?”

Sirius jolted at the sound of Remus’s voice, realizing his fingers had tightened in the other man’s hair as he’d been sitting and thinking. He carefully let go and smoothed out the tangles he’d caused. “I don’t know. I mean, I know people change. Hell, I’m proof of that.”

“But?”

He shook his head, and Remus gently bopped him in the jaw with his book. “Padfoot. But?”

“I was never a Death Eater.” His fist clenched. “I never joined them.”

“No, but your brother did.” Remus sat up, setting the book aside and running his fingers through Sirius’s hair, knowing that soothed him more than anything else. “And according to Harry, your brother betrayed the Dark Lord, in the end. Would you give him another chance, if he were still here?”

Sirius coughed and scrubbed at his burning eyes, twisting his head to the side as he focused on keeping himself under control.

“Draco also betrayed the Dark Lord, when he lied to protect Harry. And he did so in front of Bellatrix and Narcissa, two accomplished legilimens.”

Sirius nodded, still sick just thinking about how close the boy had come to dying, then. And so many other times. “I know.”

“Whatever our feelings on Draco’s past, we love Harry. We should trust and support him enough to at least give this a shot.”

Sirius made a face. “Why are you so smart?”

Remus just grinned. “Because I’ve spent years keeping your dumb ass alive.”

Sirius nodded, “You have. In more ways than you know.”

Remus heard the break in Sirius’s voice and tugged him up into a hug. They’d talked about how hard Azkaban had been. How Sirius’s guilt had caused him to feel responsible for their friends’ deaths, for losing time with Remus. He’d accepted the sentencing because he didn’t think Remus or Harry would ever be able to forgive him for failing to protect James and Lily. However, his memories of them all and his hope that they were happy had been what kept him going. Both men still carried more guilt than either could truly vocalize.

“I should have done something sooner, back then. I knew you couldn’t have, that you didn’t.” Remus choked and dropped his head back. “I let Dumbledore convince me. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius sat up and cupped his boyfriend’s face, kissing along his jaw. “Hey. It’s okay. It was a scary time, and we were so young. We both made mistakes, both tried to do what was best for everyone else because we didn’t think we deserved what we had.” He smiled as Remus lifted his head, eyes watering. “I’ve never blamed you. I promise.”

“I love you. So fucking much. I’ll never know how I got this lucky.”

Sirius snorted, “You’re keeping a dumb ass alive. Is that really lucky?” He laughed as Remus scoffed and shook his head but grinned. “And I don’t know how I got this lucky, either, but I’m never letting you go. Not again.” He cleared his throat and shifted to kneel in front of the couch, waving his wand to accio the ring box that had been hidden in the pocket of his leather jacket. “I keep trying to find the perfect time to do this, but I spent months trying to figure that out back when we were young, and all it got us was separated for over a decade. I suppose I should have learned, huh?” He opened the box and held it up to reveal a gold band decorated in rubies shaped like paw prints. “Marry me?”

Remus gaped for a long moment. “You…you’ve had this all this time?”

Sirius nodded. “My mum burned me off the family tapestry, but legally, I was still a Black. I was able to access my part of the family fortune once I turned twenty-one, and this was what I wanted for my birthday.”

“That means you carried this for almost a year!”

Sirius grinned, “I’ve carried it even longer this time.”

Remus laughed and cried at the same time, nodding. “I’d have said yes then. I’d have said yes when we first met back up. I’ll say yes until the day we die.”

Sirius grinned and kissed Remus hard, uncaring that he was also crying, then slide the ring on his lover’s left hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They curled up together, kissing and making plans until it was almost time for the boys to arrive.

Remus stood and headed for the kitchen, leaving Sirius whining at losing contact. “I’m going to start the tea.”

“We have a house elf for that.”

Remus merely raised a brow over his shoulder, still moving toward the kitchen. In seconds, Sirius was whining again and following the other man.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also a bit short, so I'd normally have combined this one and the previous. I wanted to keep the two separate because of following different POVs. Hope no one is too angry at the shorter length!!
> 
> This continues the previous chapter and everyone having lunch, though.

Draco entered Gimmauld Place just behind Harry. The sitting room was empty, but they could hear a tea kettle whistling in the kitchen and a voice called out, “We’re in here.”

Harry grinned over at Draco, squeezing his hand and leading him into the kitchen. Remus looked up and smiled at the two of them, gaze dropping to their hands then moving back up to their faces. “It’s good to see you two. I know how you take your tea, so I’m finishing up our cups, now. Feel free to take a seat with my whiney partner over there.”

“Hey!” Sirius’s head snapped around. “I’m not whining. I just think it’s silly that we have an elf but you still feel the need to cook.”

“I like cooking.” Remus and Harry spoke at the same time with Draco chiming along. “I’m pants at cooking.”

Sirius looked around the three of them and started laughing. “You’re all mad. I’m pants at cooking, too, but that’s why I’m smart enough to have an elf.” He motioned for the two young men to sit. “So, did you bring back my records?”

“Not on this trip, no. I was too afraid that Harry would steal them.” Draco winked at his boyfriend, his tension easing with how well their relationship seemed to be accepted by the two men who’d come to mean as much to him, if not more by this point, as his own family.

Harry scowled and shoved him, pouting at his godfather. “Why can’t I borrow the first editions?”

“Because you’ve never asked.” 

There was a heady beat of silence before Harry made a high-pitched sound of frustration. “Really? That’s it? I only had to ask?”

Sirius nodded. “How else would I have known you wanted to?”

Draco tried to smother his laughter, but he ended snorting and doubling over with it as Harry dropped his head to the table.

Remus chuckled along, setting the tea, some biscuits, and a few sandwiches on the table. “Eat up and tell us how work has been for the two of you. Draco, you’ve accepted the position at Hogwarts, correct?”

He nodded, taking a sip of tea. “I did. Horace finished up the last school term and is taking the summer to find and move into a new place. I’ll start moving my things in August, make sure I have all I need for my lesson plans.”

“Will you be living in Scotland full time, then?”

Draco heard the deeper question in Remus’s words and blushed, looking down before glancing over at Harry then back down at his tea. “Um, I hadn’t exactly planned that out, yet.” He felt Harry wrap an arm around him, lips brushing over his cheek.

“I have to live here because of my job, so I’d hope you were at least going to come back to visit.”

Draco looked at him, biting his lips as they began to curve upward.

“We also enjoy your visits.” His gaze turned to Sirius who smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

“I, uh, I guess I’m keeping my flat, then.”

***

The two couples sat and talked in the kitchen until long after the sun set. Sirius finally convinced Remus to let their elf, Teenie, cook so that they could continue to speak until food was finished. As they walked toward the sitting room, Harry nudged Draco. “You sure you don’t want to set off the fire alarms here?”

Draco scowled and shoved back, accidentally knocking Harry into Walburga’s portrait. Harry grabbed at the cover to keep his balance, revealing the screeching image.

“Filthy blood traitors! Disgraces to the noble family of Black.” There was a strangled sound, something between a sneer and a gasp. “And the noble family of Malfoy, I see. I should have known not to let Narcissa marry into that family. Cowards, the whole lot of them. Good for nothing but target practice and stabbing you in the back with your own dagger.”

Draco jolted as he heard the screeching voice of Walburga echo off the walls around him, eyes going so wide you could see the whites around his pale grey irises and a hard shudder racking his body.

“Dray?” Harry wrapped his arms around the other man. “What’s wrong?”

Sirius merely grimaced and nodded, struggling to cover the portrait again. “Bellatrix sounded just like good old mum.”

Draco nodded, shuddering again, voice hoarse as he choked out. “She used to say that, too. That I was only good for target practice. Before hitting me with a Crucio. I had to learn to stay on guard at all times. If she was in the house, I wasn’t safe.”

Harry’s arms tightened around Draco, face pressed into the other man’s shoulder. “Never again. I promise you. Never again.” He kissed Draco’s cheek before moving to join Sirius. “Here, let me help.”

“Wait.” The hall froze at Draco’s snapped word, his voice suddenly stronger and eyes narrowed. “You said she’s permanently stuck to this wall, correct?” Sirius, Remus, and Harry all nodded. “May I try something?” 

Sirius looked from his fiancé to his godson then back to Draco and nodded again. He pulled Harry out of the way when Draco motioned them aside and pulled out his wand. “It won’t do any good to blast her. I’ve tried. Depulso. Incendio. Nothing works. Just damages the wall.”

Draco’s mouth twisted, curving upward to one side. “Damaging the wall is my goal.” He pointed his wand and fired off several careful aimed blasts around the portrait, leaving half a dozen holes punctured almost completely through the wall. Everyone stayed quiet as he continued to stand stock still and study his work. After several long minutes, he laughed. “She’s stuck to the wall, but the wall isn’t stuck.” He turned and took in the confused faces of the others. “The wall isn’t repairing itself. It’s just a wall.” No one seemed to catch on. “That means, you could rip the wall out around her portrait.”

Remus snapped, his face lighting up. “And remove the section with her portrait attached to it!”

Sirius grinned as he caught on. “Then, she goes to the attic with the elf heads we removed from upstairs.”

“And we repair a Walburga-free wall.” Harry tugged Draco into a kiss. “It’s sexy when you’re smarter than me.”

Draco flushed, gaze darting to the two older men who both grinned as they watched them, and muttered, “Wish you’d thought that in school.”

“I did. I just also thought you were a git.” Harry laughed as Draco elbowed him in the stomach and pulled away.

“Bespectled idiot. Are we ripping out a wall or what?”

Harry just kept grinning, hand light rubbing his belly, and nodded. “Fire away.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Draco and Harry had been spending time with each other for months, but they were finally going on their first official date. Before leaving Remus and Sirius after dinner the a few nights ago night, the third time they’d visited together, Sirius had asked just how long they’d actually been dating. Harry had responded, “Since June, really,” at the same time Draco said, “We’ve never gone on actual date.”

Sirius had merely stared while Remus choked on his tea with laughter.

“I kissed you weeks ago!”

Draco flushed, scowling and crossing his arms. “You did, but that doesn’t mean you’ve asked me on a date.”

“I believe you just called yourself a trollop, according to pureblood standards.” Sirius grinned and winked as Draco turned his glare on the older man. “But Remus has never asked me out, either, so I approve.”

Remus smacked the other man’s arm and shook his head. “I don’t think asking about _a_ date matters so much as asking about _dating,_ and I did that.”

“Enough!” Harry’s face was bright red, and he fidgeted in place. “I guess some stuff slipped my mind, okay. I’ve just been enjoying us being together.”

Draco smiled at how uncomfortable Harry looked. Biting his lip, he reached over and took his hand. “Well, if we’ve been dating a couple months, then, would you like to go an actual date this weekend?”

Harry’s whole body seemed to light up as he agreed, but he’d then demanded they do it right by pureblood standards, meaning a fancy restaurant and dressing up and Harry picking Draco up at his flat and everything. “If this matters to you, then it matters to me.”

Thus, Draco found himself pacing his living room on Saturday night. He was dressed in dark charcoal slacks and a matching waistcoat over a blue-grey button-up, an outfit he knew emphasized his coloring and how lithe his body was overall. He was still nervous, though. Harry had said to look nice, but he worried he looked too nice. What was nice according to Harry Potter’s standards?

He’d changed his hair three times. First styling it into a fancy pompadour before deciding he looked pompous. Then slicking it all back before gagging at how much he looked like his school year self. He mussed it up afterwards, hoping for a shaggy-chic style but thought he looked more like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Jabbing his wand at his hair, he put it back up in the pompadour, mussing a few pieces up around the front. “Middle ground. I can find middle ground.” His wards shivered and a knock came at the door, making his jump and yelp. Hands shaking, he walked over to open the door.

Harry stood in pressed black slacks and an emerald button-up that matched his eyes and was a smidge too tight across his chest and shoulders, not that Draco would complain. His usually shaggy hair had been cut short on the sides and longer on top, the curls carefully tousled into a style Draco could never hope to achieve with his own pin-straight hair. And there was a bouquet of wildflowers in his left hand.

Draco felt his entire body melt, tongue going thick and awkward as he stammered out a hello.

Harry seemed just as stunned, his gaze running up and down Draco several times before he blushed and shoved the flowers at him. “These are for you.”

Draco smiled and took the flowers, motioning for Harry to come inside as he found a vase to put them in before the two side-alonged to dinner.

Harry had made reservations at a wizarding restaurant the used privacy bubbles so the two of them could enjoy dinner without others staring or interrupting. Draco had worried that making the date official would somehow also make it awkward, but they ended up talking about what they were going to do once Draco started at Hogwarts, since he only had a week until it was time for him to travel to the school and prepare for the school year.

Once dinner finished, Harry asked if Draco wanted to go for a walk, so they ended up hand in hand in the enchanted gardens. With how late it was, there were only a few other couples and no reporters in sight. Deciding they wouldn’t be disturbed, neither man bothered with more privacy spells.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

Draco frowned at Harry’s comment. “What do you mean?”

“About tonight. I know it can be difficult, all the reporters and stuff who circle me, and since you’re not out.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Draco smiled and kissed Harry’s cheek. “I don’t think it’s difficult to date you at all. And I’m not out to my parents, but I’m not exactly closeted. My friends know. Your friends know. Your godfathers know.” He frowned and squeezed Harry’s hand. “I’m not trying to hide us, or you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Maybe a little?” Harry wrinkled his nose. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Draco sighed. “I mean, I can tell them. If you want me to.”

Harry’s head came up, forehead wrinkled as he frowned. “Tell them? About spending time with me or…”

Draco bit his lip and ducked his head. “I…yes. Both. All of it. I know we’re not close anymore, and we’ve drifted even farther apart since my father was released on parole, but.” He paused and laughed a little, shaking his head then looking back up at Harry. “But I’m not afraid to tell them I’m spending time with you.”

“I thought you said you were?”

Draco nodded. “I was. I’ve been afraid to lose them because I lost a lot of people during the war and stuff, which I know was my own fault, but I don’t have much left.” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat. “I was afraid of being alone. I’m not afraid of that anymore, though. Not now that I have you.”

Harry cupped his face, kissing him, and Draco let the world melt away as he lost himself in the feel of Harry’s mouth of his, the heady taste of him mixed with the wine from dinner.

“Come back to my place?” Harry’s words were murmured against Draco’s mouth, making Draco shiver as he nodded. With a pop, they apparated back to Harry’s house. 

They were kissing again when they landed in Harry’s bedroom, and Harry backed Draco into the bed, both tumbling over onto the large bed. Draco whimpered and arched, gasping as Harry’s mouth broke from his to trail down his jaw and throat.

Harry ran his hand down Draco’s chest and stomach, word-and-wandlessly popping open the buttons on both the waistcoat and shirt, letting him nip at the jut of Draco’s collarbone. “I want to taste every angle of your body, lick all that sharpness right off you.”

Draco shuddered, eyes rolling back and closing at Harry’s words. “Oh, gods.” No one had ever said such things to Draco before and to hear them in Harry’s voice, rough with desire. Draco was already harder than ever been before.

Harry’s thigh nudged between Draco’s, and he arched again, hips twisting at the friction he felt. Harry ground his own hips back down, and Draco moaned and whined when he felt that the other man was just as turned on. His moan turned into a string of babbled curses and begging when Harry continued to rub them together, mouth assaulting its way down to suck one nipple into his mouth.

He should touch Harry back. He should kiss Harry back. He should, oh fuck, his body lifted helplessly at the scrape of teeth over his sensitive nipple, thought splintering and exploding as he cried out.

Harry’s hands on the fly of his slacks, however, had him snapping back to attention. Draco could feel his whole body blush as he pushed against Harry’s chest, unable to meet his gaze. “I…I’ve never…I’ve never.”

It took a moment, but then Harry started and pulled his hands away, twisting to lay alongside Draco rather than on top of him. “Oh! You’re a virgin.”

Draco groaned and covered his face, his words a rush. “I mean. I was a little busy in high school trying not to die, and since then, the whole former Death Eater thing. I’m not really someone most decent people want to be seen with.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry pulled Draco’s hands away and kissed his nose. “I’m not mad or taking the piss or something. It’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, and you don’t need to defend yourself to me. It just means I need to be.” He waved one hand in a circle. “Nicer? Slower? Not an asshole.”

Draco laughed softly, clearing his throat and looking up at Harry. “You’re not an asshole. And I’m not against sex. It just. I don’t know. I guess I feel weird, still being a virgin at my age.”

Harry shook his head and rolled to his back, pulling Draco across his chest. “Don’t. Everyone is different. I regretted my first time, with a girl and a guy. Both times, it felt like I was just having sex because it was expected. It was different when I felt right, felt ready. I’m happy to wait until you’re ready.”

Draco chewed his lower lip for a moment then sighed. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“No. I’m no—okay, I might.”

Draco grinned at the honesty, even as he hid his face against Harry’s chest. “I wanted to know it was going to matter. Like, I guess I’ve got this romantic ideal or something that sex for the first time…it’ll…matter? God, I’m not saying this well.”

“You want to be loved first.” Draco tensed, but Harry just held him tighter. “I get that. Caring about someone, knowing they care about you. It does make a difference, and I can wait.”

Draco relaxed, lips curving as Harry understood.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning/Content Warning for homophobia from Draco's family. If you're uncomfortable reading such content, read until the *** and then skip the rest. The beginning of the next chapter will explain enough to allow you to follow along, and your mental health is more important than any fanfic. XOs

The morning after their date, Draco awoke curled on his side and snuggled against Harry’s chest, head tucked under the other man’s chin as he lay spread eagle on his back. Draco shifted, not sure what time it was or if they needed to be up. Harry made a soft noise in his sleep, arms wrapping tighter around the blond. Smiling, Draco nestled closer, letting himself drift back off to sleep. Life could wait a while longer.

Eventually, the two woke again, lounging wrapped up in each other until Harry’s stomach growled loudly. Laughing, they finally made it out of bed and down to the kitchen for tea and toast, trading kisses as they talked. 

Draco’s wand vibrated to remind him that he had plans with his parents.

Harry whined and hugged him, nuzzling his face into Draco’s jaw. “Do you have to leave?”

“I mean, if I don’t, my parents will ask questions about where I am.” He felt Harry tense next to him. “I don’t want to hide us. Remember?” He kissed Harry then huffed, annoyed with himself. “I just need to figure out how to tell them.” He sighed, eyes burning. “You’d think I’d have this planned already, with how many years I’ve been hiding.”

Harry hugged him, nodding. “I understand. I knew you weren’t out to them before I kissed you, and I know it can be hard to be tell your family, especially when they aren’t supportive. I haven’t told the Dursley’s.”

Draco wiped his eyes with the ball of his hand and looked up at Harry. “You haven’t?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, I don’t care if they get mad. I know they hate me. But if I didn’t have the Weasley’s.” He shrugged. “It might be really different for me. I don’t want to push to do anything you aren’t ready for.” 

Draco smiled at how this conversation mimicked the one from the night before. “I know. I just feel like I should tell them in person and not send a note saying I’m skipping lunch to make out with my boyfriend.”

Harry laughed, “I’d pay to see your father’s face when he read that note.”

“It would be a bit hard to see his face and be the boyfriend I was bailing on them for.” Draco’s voice was amused, but he still rolled his eyes.

Harry smiled and kissed Draco, fingers tangling through his hair. “Mmm, boyfriend, huh?” Draco blushed at the slip, knowing they hadn’t talked about labels, but Harry just waggled his brows. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” Draco’s voice dropped, fingers stroking over the warm curve of Harry’s cheek. “And I want you to know that I’m not ashamed of you. Or of myself. I worry about their reaction, but I’m not ashamed of us. That’s not what this is.”

Harry’s smile somehow seemed to get bigger. “Gods, you’re perfect. You know that? Go see your parents. I’ve got some paperwork to finish up for work. I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”

Draco nodded, face warm as he kissed Harry again. “Of course. And maybe we can talk about how I tell my parents? Talk about how you told your family?”

Harry grinned, pressing their foreheads together. “Definitely.” 

***

He flooed to his parents’ house for their regular lunch meeting. His mother and father were waiting as he exited the floo, looking as if they expected something between a riot and full-blown war. In fact, he’d not seen them look this serious since the end of the Second Wizarding War and their trials.

Straightening his cloak, he saw his father holding the Prophet, fist clenched around the paper. Draco swallowed hard. He hadn’t looked at the paper that morning, but that clenched fist and his father’s look made him more than a little nervous. “Mother, Fa—”

“Tell us this isn’t true.” His father’s words cut him off, voice quiet but sharp.

Confused, Draco took the paper that was thrust at him, opening the wrinkled pages to see a front page spread of him and Potter kissing the night before. Apparently, there had been a reporter, or at least someone with a wizarding camera, in the gardens. The image showed the two of them smiling at one another, their affection and arousal plain on their faces, then leaning into an intense kiss.

Draco’s entire body began to shake, and the same cold that he used to feel when the Dark Lord lived with them invaded his bones. The same fear. He struggled for a few minutes to remember how to take in a full breath, swallowing several times, but he raised his chin. “It is. I—I think I’m in love with him.” Draco suppressed the want to cower from his father’s cold stare. Though he knew his father’s weaknesses, he still longed for his love, his approval.

“You are straight. You are a Malfoy!” Lucius’s voice all but crackled with barely restrained anger, his hands clenched, arms halfway raised.

Narcissa placed a hand on her husband, as if to restrain him. “We thought you dated that Parkinson girl in school? And the older Greengrass daughter?”

Draco nodded at his mother. “I did. I wanted to make you proud.” He shook his head, “But I’m not straight. And I care for Harry.”

His father shook his head and stepped forward. “We do NOT care for this development. Either you will marry a pureblood girl.” He slashed his hand to the side as his wife tried to cut in. “Or you can leave. For good.”


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So....this is where that misunderstanding and angst happens. There's also some light NSFW.

It was storming when Draco apparated onto Harry’s doorstep. Lightning split the sky, thunder rattling windows, as Draco knocked, unsure anyone would even hear him. Harry opened the door a few moments later, though.

“What the hell, Draco?” Harry drug him inside, casting drying and warming charms. “Are you delirious or something?”

“They threw me out.” Harry froze as Draco continued. “Said I had to choose between loving you and being their son, but…” He shook his head, “That’s not fair. That’s not a choice. I should be allowed to love whoever I want.” He swallowed, tears running down his cheeks. “I should be allowed to love you.”

Some emotion Draco couldn’t understand passed over Harry’s face, and his wand clattered the floor before he hauled the other man into a kiss.

Draco looped his arms around Harry’s neck, lips parting for the press of the other man’s tongue as he was pressed back into the wall. Moaning, he arched, legs parting to let Harry slot himself between his thighs again. On another moan, Draco lifted up onto his tip toes and pressed his hips forward to meet the thrust of Harry’s.

“Fuck, your sounds.”

Draco bit back another whimper, writhing. “Am I supposed to be quieter?”

“No. Fuck no.” Harry slanted his lips over Draco’s, irises blown wide. “I wanna hear you. I want you to scream yourself hoarse and know that I caused that.”

Draco’s knees gave out and he sagged into Harry’s hold, their lips clashing again. Harry gripped one of Draco’s thighs, hiking it up around his waist and rocking them together. In response, Draco mewled and dug his nails into Harry’s shoulders, head falling back against the wall with a thud.

“Up-upstairs.” Draco yanked at Harry’s faded Canons t-shirt, pulling it over his head so that he could run his hands over his body, whimpering at the sight of tawny skin and defined muscled covered in a dusting of curled dark hair.

“I thought.” Harry swallowed and closed his eyes, face scrunched up in concentration. “I don’t want to push you. You don’t have to. We don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Draco nipped Harry’s lips, making the other man open his eyes. “Last night.” He shook his head. “I was still hiding. I knew I hadn’t told them, hadn’t been honest with them. Or myself really. But I’m not, now.” He kissed him again. “I love you. I trust you.” Another kiss. “I know you won’t hurt me.” Another kiss, followed by a smile. “I want this with you.”

That same twist of strange twist of Harry’s face happened. “Never. I never want to hurt you.” With a pop, they were upstairs again, falling onto the bed together, a tangle of lips and tongue.

***

Draco yawned and rolled over, finding himself alone. He stretched, body aching in places he’d never hurt before, but he smiled and twisted again, relishing in the reminder of what he’d shared with Harry.

“Hey! I thought I heard you up.”

Blushing, Draco looked over as Harry poked his head back inside, tugging the sheets up over his chest, but the brunette just walked over and kissed him. “I’ve got breakfast started, if you’re hungry.”

“Waffles?”

Harry laughed. “I’m not good enough to make waffles, but I do make bacon how you like it.”

Draco pouted until he heard bacon, then wiggled happily and pushed Harry away. “Yes. Go make me bacon.”

Harry laughed harder, jerking his head to the side. “I’ve got extra tees and joggers in the dresser, if you want something more casual than last night’s clothes.” He dipped his head to scrape his teeth over the curve where Draco’s throat met his shoulder, the spot marked by one of several bruised love bites, grinning when the other man whimpered and arched his neck. “Though, I’m also fine with what you’re wearing, now.” Winking at Draco, who was sure his whole body was blushing, Harry left.

Draco sat in bed for a few minutes, trying to build up the courage to wander downstairs naked, when he never even walked around his own home without at least a dressing gown, but in the end, he pulled on some clothes before going down to the kitchen.

Harry looked up as Draco entered, and Draco watched, fascinated, as his pupils expanded until the green almost disappeared. “I was wrong. It might be even sexier to see you in my clothes.”

Draco blushed and walked over to make his cup of tea, having never felt sexy before but wanting to be so for Harry. “They smell like you.” His voice was quiet and a bit hoarse, so he cleared his throat. “It’s…sexy…to smell like you.” 

Harry groaned and pulled Draco into a kiss, hands running over his body. “You’re going to be the death of me. I swear.” He pulled back running his hands through his own hair, still wrecked from sleep and the previous night. “Okay, I can’t impress you if I burn your bacon. Go away so I can focus.”

Draco gasped and laughed, recognizing the joke. “Now, who’s the punk?” He grinned and collected his cup, going to explore Harry’s house, realizing he hadn’t seen much before the entrance and upstairs. Sipping his tea, he circled the living room, looking at the various photos Harry had hanging up: him with Hermione and Ron, him and the Weasley family, with Remus and Sirius, playing quidditch with their regular group. Draco found himself imagining a picture of the two of them joining the rest of these walls, thought he’d like such a picture on his own.

Eventually, he sat on the couch and noticed that there were papers and quills strewn across the coffee table. He remembered that Harry had mentioned having paperwork for his job to do the night before, and, not wanting to pry, Draco started to move a file folder to cover the papers. Until he noticed that several of the pages had his name on them.

Confused, Draco picked up a page, his gaze skimming over it as he started to call out to Harry and ask what this mean, but his words died in his throat as he read the notes, scrawled in Harry’s messy script:

_May 21 – Made contact with the subject at Spice Up. Ate dinner together, established “friendship.” Nothing suspicious noted  
June 3 – Continued contact at Sunrise Diner. “Friendship” continued.  
June 4 – Breakfast at Sunrise Diner again. Made plans to meet up officially.  
June 7 – Met with subject for a Seeker’s gam—_

Draco’s vision blurred as he realized this was a list of the times he’d been with Harry. He heard the crash of his cup slipping from his fingers and onto the floor. Heard a shout and the sound of feet running, looking up to see Harry stumble to a stop just inside the room.

“Made contact with the subject? You mean me? I’m the subject?” His hands began to shake, and he set the paper back on the coffee table.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to see that.”

Draco laughed, the sound high-pitched and too sharp. “No. I don’t suppose I was supposed to.” Standing, Draco paced in a circle, holding up his hand and backing away from Harry when he tried to step closer. “Don’t. Just don’t. I’m a case? This was all a case.”

“No, Dra—”

“I was a case!” Draco’s voice was shriek as he pointed at the papers. “You met me as a case. Hung out with me as a case.” His voice broke on a sob. “Oh god, are you going to write about what we did?” Draco wiped his face as he began to struggle to breath. “Why did…you didn’t have to….for a case?”

“It’s not what you think. Draco, please.”

Draco shook his head. “Obviously nothing is what I thought.” Feeling himself dissolving into full hyperventilation, Draco groped for his wand in the pocket of the joggers and twisted, apparating back to his flat. Once there, he closed his floo and wards before sinking into the floor to sob.


	10. Chapter Ten

Harry dropped into one of the leather armchairs in Sirius and Remus’s sitting room. “I fucked up. I didn’t think of him as the case. He’s just Draco, has been since the second time we talked. I didn’t think...” Harry’s voice broke on a sob, and he hung his head. “God, I fucked up.”

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks before Remus spoke. “I know someone else who forgot to think, once, broke someone he loved’s trust, and it almost ruined something really beautiful.”

Harry started. He’d heard of The Prank but only vaguely. “How did he fix it? How did he undo the damage he’d caused?”

Sirius laughed softly, hugging his fiancé. “For starters, he apologized. A lot. Then, he learned to think and act like someone with a future and something to lose.” He laced their fingers together, kissing the ring that showed their promise to each other.

“How do I apologize to someone who doesn’t want to speak to me anymore?”

Sirius grimaced and sighed. “It’s a bit harder when you’re not sharing a dorm room, huh?”

Harry nodded. “And he’s blocked me from his wards. And he’s moved to Hogwarts already, so I can’t just go to his place. And I can’t just walk into Hogwarts without permission, but I don’t think McGonagall is going to take “I broke my boyfriend’s heart and need to fix it” as a good reason.”

Remus shrugged, “You never know. She just might.”

Harry sighed and made a face. “I sent her an owl just in case.” His head dropped back onto the chair. “She said it was up to Draco.” He scowled, grumbling, “Though she called him ‘Professor Malfoy.’ Like that’s all he was to me.”

Sirius laughed and walked over to crouch in front of Harry, clapping him on the knee. “Look. We’ll figure out a way for you and him to see each other again. But you need to think about what you’re going to say.”

“What do you mean?” He raised his head. “I’m going to apologize and beg for his forgiveness!”

“It’s one thing to apologize for this situation, for not telling him you’d be assigned to a case about him and ending that case before fucking him.”

“Padfoot!”

“What? I’m not going to sugarcoat it. This is too important.” Sirius turned his attention back to Harry. “He’s who’s hurt. And you might hurt, too, but his pain needs to come first because you’re who messed up.”

Harry nodded, knowing his godfather was right.

“It’s a hard to fix someone’s trust when you break it. James was angry with me for a long time after what I did, even though I’d never actually meant for anyone to get hurt. I ran my mouth out of anger, not thinking Sniv—Severus would take me seriously, but I almost got someone killed. Worse, almost got someone killed by the person I loved most in the world and by betraying their biggest secret.” He paused, guilt laced thickly through his voice. Remus stepped up and ran his fingers through Sirius’s hair, and after a moment, he was able to continue. “I know you’re upset, you feel bad. But Draco fell in love with you, and before you start trying to explain away hurting him, you’ve got to realize that kind of love is different. It’s leads to a different kind of pain and needs a different kind of understanding. Apologizing for hurting someone who loves you.” Sirius audibly swallowed. “If you don’t feel the same, it’s not right for you to force him to see you again, not when there are other ways to go about this.”

Harry swallowed hard, tears running down his cheeks. “I love him, too. He mentioned that he’d been afraid.” Harry flushed but made himself continue. “to get physical until he was able to admit his feelings. I think I was afraid to admit my feelings until I’d ended the case.” He sighed. “I think I knew I was lying, to an extent. Gods, I fucked up.”

Remus placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing and smiling down at the young man. “Then, let’s figure out how to get you two speaking again, let you tell him that. Knowing you love him, that you feel the same, will mean a lot.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

Draco walked the grounds at Hogwarts. It was his last free weekend with students arriving on Monday, and he was desperate to collect his thoughts and feelings. He’d always been so good at compartmentalizing. Hell, it was the only thing that let him survive living with his aunt and the Dark Lord. Now, though, he was barely scrapping through his days and spent all night tossing and turning.

He sighed and came to a stop just outside the quidditch pitch. He’d been unable to actually cross the border onto the pitch or into the stadium, hadn’t even brought his broom or quidditch gear. “Too many memories.”

“Not all memories are bad.”

Draco yelped and jumped, having not realized he had spoken aloud or that anyone was near him. Spinning around, he saw a familiar redheaded woman walking toward him. Well, shit. He hadn’t expected this.

Harry had sent owls, come to his flat, even reached out to Minerva. He didn’t want excuses, though. Didn’t want apologies, even if they were honest, because that wouldn’t undo the damage. He’d lost the last tie to his family, lost friends that he wasn’t even sure he’d ever actually had, lost his heart. Just how much of this last summer had been a lie? Draco blew out a long breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair, letting his head hang.

“You look as bad as Harry, mate.”

Draco tensed, all but snarling as his head snapped up. “I don’t want to hear that!” His voice cracked on that lie, and he flinched then started to walk back toward the castle.

The redhead was shorter than him but strong from her career as a Chaser, and she grabbed his arm to stop him. “I don’t care. The two of you are miserable apart, and I miss my friend being happy.”

Draco’s composure snapped. “Oh? Miss everyone’s hero being comfortable about using me? Miss feeling okay with lying to Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and all-around bastard?” Draco sneered. “I’ve worked hard to be more than my past, dammit, but at least my poor behavior stemmed from love.” He turned to leave again, stopping short when Ginny spoke up.

“So did his.”

He swallowed and looked back at her.

“Look, I never liked you when we were younger. I think I always kind of knew you and Harry had some…thing between you, and Harry was ‘supposed’ to be mine.” She snorted. “God, children are stupid.” She shook her head and grinned wryly. “Anyways. I didn’t know Harry was told to talk to you. I honestly thought he’d just bumped into you and fallen back into obsession and circling around you again.”

“I wish.” Draco muttered.

She moved forward, squeezed Draco’s arm, and honestly smiled at him for the first time. “Yeah, he was a dick about the whole thing. Harry doesn’t know how to hide his feelings, though. How to fake them. Harry’s always been one to rush headfirst into everything without thinking, but he can’t fake what he feels.” She shrugged and let go of Draco, kicking the dirt. “I was worried about you, what you felt, because I could see how hard he was falling for you. I didn’t want you to hurt him.”

Draco wrapped his arms around himself, voice a shuddering whisper. “Never. I’d never have hurt him.”

Ginny sighed and pulled Draco into a hug, and he broke. Sobbing against her shoulder.

“Harry can be an idiot. He was an idiot. Idiots can still fall in love, though. Just give him a chance? Maybe?”

***

Later that night, Minerva caught Draco as he slipped away from the Great Hall without eating, again.

“Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco grimaced and rubbed his face, feeling very much like a first-year again. “I, um, I can. Um.”

“If you need anything, please know that my office is always open. I don’t want to push, but we are coworkers and, I’d like to think, friends.” She smiled at him. “And friends are willing to listen when one needs an ear.”

Draco felt his eyes water again and cleared his throat roughly, scrubbing his face. “I might take you up on that. Thank you.”

She nodded and moved to the side to let him pass. “If you decide you’re hungry later, please let the elves know.”

He nodded and walk a few feet down the hall before looking back at her. “Do I? I mean, as a professor with my own quarters, how do I handle asking someone to visit? If I decided to?”

Her smile widened slightly, and she nodded. “You simply ask them to visit and give them your floo address. Just, don’t let them run too wild around campus once students are here.”

Draco flushed as she winked before walking away then returned to his room. Harry’s clothing, unwashed even after weeks, were laid out on his bed. He slept in them every night, though they now smelled more like him that the other man. Draco changed back into the joggers and tee then pulled out a deep green envelop and some parchment, staring at the blank page for a long time.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Harry was pacing in his flat an hour before time to meet with Draco. He’d dressed nicely originally and even fixed his hair, but he’d run his fingers through it so many times that it quickly looked a mess again. He wanted to just rush to Draco and beg for forgiveness, but he knew it would be important how he handled. That it was important to show he trusted and respected Draco, which meant waiting until the time Draco specified. Finally, the clock chimed six. Nerves taking over, Harry adjusted his shirt and smoothed his jeans before stepping into the floo and traveling to Hogwarts.

Draco looked thinner than Harry remembered, gaunt, but his pale hair gleamed in the soft light of his professor’s chambers as Harry stepped through the floo. Harry wanted to rush forward, hug, touch, assure himself that the other man was really near him again, but Sirius had warned him not to do that, to let Draco guide how they proceeded.

Taking a breath, Harry met Draco’s gaze. “I was assigned to check you out when my superiors found out you were hired at Hogwarts, and I did run into you on purpose because of that. At first. But I really liked being around you, liked you, and by the time I fell in love, I’d forgotten why it all started. I was so happy with the now. And I’d like the chance to prove that to you.” Harry held his out. “If you’d let me.”

Draco somehow went numb from head to toe while also feeling himself shake all over as he watched Harry step out of the fireplace. His dark skin had a paler to it, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His hair seemed to stand out from his head in all directions, almost as if he’d attempted to yank it out before arriving.

Moreover… “Is that my shirt?” Draco wasn’t sure if he’d meant to ask that question, but he suddenly realized that Harry was wearing the same grey button-up he’d left when he’d apparated away over his tee.

Harry flushed and nodded, fingers carding into and tugging at his hair for a moment. “Yeah. I, uh. I’ve been wearing it a lot. I never meant for things to go as far as they did.” He flinched and shook his head. “With the case. I mean. I wanted things with you to go that far. Farther. As far as we can go, really.” He seemed to realize that his words weren’t necessarily soothing Draco, and shook his head. “I thought it was stupid when they first assigned you to me, asking to check out that you were safe. Obviously, you’re not a threat to anyone, not anymore. I don’t understand why some of the higher ups can’t get that through their head. It’s why I volunteered to take your case.”

“You volunteered?”

Harry’s fingers yanked harder on his hair, and he nodded, mouth curving downward. “Yeah. I was afraid you wouldn’t get a fair shake from some of the others, and I didn’t like the idea of you having this taken away from you over what you did as a kid.” He sighed and dropped his hands, sliding them into his pockets. “That wasn’t the right thing to say, was it?”

“Were you being honest?”

“Of course!” His head snapped up, eyes wide, “I’m not lying. I’ve never lied. Not outright, I mean. I tried to avoid talking about work, so I wouldn’t have to lie to you.”

Draco’s jaw wobbled, and he nodded. “You did. And I didn’t want to push because I was afraid of what I might find out.”

Harry’s eyes watered, and he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I know how bad it looks, what I did. And I’m so sorry. It wasn’t like that, though. What I wrote.” He squirmed in place, face scrunched up. “God, I’m sorry. I had to make it sound like we’d just chatted as friends a few times. I couldn’t exactly tell my job that I’d fallen for you, not and expect them to buy my report and back off you.”

“It’s because of my father, isn’t it? The renewed interest in me. I still had lunch at the Manor regularly, so they worried about me being back under control of my father.”

Harry nodded. “I think so. I told them that wasn’t true, though. And Seamus and Dean agreed to write character reports for you, since you were around them all the time, even without me. And Lee vouched for you from our games. He’s not an Auror, but he works with our department as PR, so they trust him.”

“They spoke up for me?”

Harry smiled and took a step forward. “So did Sirius and Remus. They all like you, Draco. Really like you. They didn’t fake any of it.”

“They?” Draco’s voice was barely over a whisper because he knew it would crack and shatter if he tried to speak up. He found himself subconsciously moving toward Harry.

Harry met him halfway across the room. “We. We didn’t fake any of it. I was stupid and should have ended the case sooner, should have been honest with you sooner. But I didn’t fake anything.” Cupping Draco’s face, he pressed their foreheads together. “I will spend as long as you need proving that. I will risk my job and let you read all the correspondence between Robards and me for the rest of forever. I’ll do whatever you need to know that I do really love you.”

“You love me?” His voice did break, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t shattering. He was thawing. The breaking was just the ice he’d encased himself in to survive the last few weeks.

“I love you.” Harry pulled Draco close, kissing him briefly. “God, I’m so in love with you. And I’m so sorry. I’ll never do anything like this again. I swear.”

“If you do, I’ll find a way to lace Veritaserum into your bloodstream, so you have no choice but to be totally honest forever.”

“I’ll let you if means you trust me again.”

Draco shook his head, holding tighter to Harry when he made a distressed noise and started to pull back. “Using that sort of potion isn’t trust. Not for real, and I want real trust. I won’t lie. It’s going to take some time to really get over this. Tonight helps, but it’s not perfect. Not yet.”

Harry nodded, relaxing back into Draco’s touch. “I understand. And I’ll do whatever you need, whatever we need.”

Draco knew they were still on wobbly ground, that his own feelings were still tender, still bruised. He had Harry back, though. Had Harry saying he loved him. Hooking his fingers in the collar of the silk shirt and pulled him into a kiss, wanting another taste, afraid he’d imaged how good they’d been together.

Harry gripped Draco’s hips, lips slanting over his on a broken moan, and Draco knew he hadn’t imagined anything. They were just as hot, just as fast.

Harry pulled back, making Draco whine as he’d been tugging the two of them toward the bed. “I don’t want to rush you. I know you don’t trust me again, yet, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know.” Draco nodded, yanking at buttons and shoving the shirt from Harry’s shoulders. “I know, but I need you. I missed you. And I know we shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.”

Harry kissed him again, shaking his head and guiding Draco backwards. “No shouldn’ts. Just us. What we want.” His teeth raked along Draco’s jaw, and he nuzzled back to the sensitive place under his ear, the one that made the blond whine, all high-pitched and shivery. “And I missed you, too. These damn clothes, that damn bed. It wasn’t warm with you anymore.” He caught Draco around the waist, lifting him and tossing him back onto the bed. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch.”

Draco shuddered as he watched Harry unbutton his jeans before crawling across the bed and over him. “I’ve been sleeping in your clothes, but they don’t smell like you anymore.”

“I’ll fix that.” His lips found Draco’s, settling between his thighs. “I’ll make this whole room smell like me before I leave.”

“Yes. Please.” Draco pulled him down for another kiss.

***

The next morning, Draco awoke to Harry kissing him awake. “Wh’time’sit?”

Harry laughed softly. “Early, but I have to be at work.”

Draco frowned. “Oh.” He’d been hoping they’d have longer together. It hadn’t crossed his mind that he’d once again spend the day after alone.

“I can come back tonight, though. Bring a bag.” Harry chewed his lip one side, the other side curving up into a grin. “I’m off tomorrow.”

Draco felt a matching grin form on his own face. “I can make sure my lesson plans are all done before you get back.”

Harry kissed him again, the press of lips growing heated for a moment. “Okay. I have to go, or I’ll be late, and you’re worth it, but then I’d be kept late.” His words were murmured against Draco’s lips, more small kisses between each muttered statement.

Draco laughed and pushed him back. “No being late tonight. I don’t give a damn if you annoy Robards.”

Harry laughed. “Got it, baby.” He kissed him once more then headed for the floo.


End file.
